


Vacation

by Rikkamaru



Series: Random Discontinued Stories [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 19:36:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12754800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rikkamaru/pseuds/Rikkamaru
Summary: “I still need to find a good apartment and decide if I want to hang up my cape for the hiatus. Probably not, but I might take it easy on my rounds.” He wanted to focus more on cold cases, maybe reach out and help heroes outside of Gotham. The world was kind of open to him now.He just needed to take it.





	Vacation

**Author's Note:**

> I can't be bothered to fix this and make it less crack-y or self-indulgent. Have fun!

Tim sat despondently on a ledge overlooking a portion of the city, cursing every cliché out there as rain slipped through the fabric of his hoodie and under his Red Robin outfit and slipped down his spine. “I so don’t need this right now,” he muttered. First Bruce die- _disappears_ , then Dick goes and makes that demon child the new Robin, kicking Tim to the curb along the way. He then manages to _find_ Bruce lost in time and drag him back, knocking Ra's al Ghul down a base or two, but apparently, none of that mattered because Bruce wanted to keep Damian as his Robin. He wanted to scream, and cry, and take it all out on Damian and Dick and Bruce and make them understand that _Robin is all he had and now it’s gone_ , but they probably won’t care. Bruce might. Damian certainly won’t.

“Maybe I should take a hiatus,” he mused aloud, shifting his weight and slowly standing. He found the rope he’d set up for when he wanted to get down and began to slide along it, reaching the ground in a few seconds. “Take on a few detective cases from the GCPD, get back into photography, take a break on the physical missions so I don’t use my aggression on anyone.” He smiled a little to himself as he coiled up the rope. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan. I’ll give it a try, see how it goes and work from there.” He set off for the Wayne Manor, still needing to rent an apartment for himself and get his things.

He came home to near silence, Dick not looking at him – perhaps out of guilt for not believing Tim and calling him crazy, Tim didn't quite care right then – and Damian radiating a smugness that Tim wanted to punch out of him until he took a deep breath and tucked the resentment away. Bruce wasn't there but that was fine, he was probably reacquainting himself with the city. He was preparing to hide away in his room until everything got settled for his impromptu move when Alfred appeared, catching his eye and beckoning him closer. “Master Tim, I have a serving from dinner still warm for you if you wish to eat,” he told him, and Tim nearly collapsed at the sheer relief at Alfred’s unchanged demeanor and the thought of a warm meal after brooding in the rain (which he reprimanded himself a little over; he didn't need to give anyone any _more_ “evidence” that he was a miniature Bruce).

“That sounds great, Alfred. Thank you,” he told the man, and began removing his hoodie before catching himself. “Let me go upstairs and change into something not soaked through then I’ll be right there.”

“Very good,” the butler approved, and Tim made a hasty retreat to do just that, switching into an oversized Batman t-shirt and grey sweatpants. By the time he came back down Dick and Damian finally decided to retire for the night and he tucked into his meal without complaint. Alfred sat across from him, cup of tea in hand, and waited, eyes patiently on the quietest of Bruce’s children.

Tim appreciated Alfred giving him a chance to get his thoughts straightened out and looked at him. “I need to move out,” he started bluntly, eyes meeting Alfred’s before flicking back down to his food. “Losing Bruce and the identity of Robin so close together…and then I got him back but he doesn't want me as Robin anymore...I need some time to straighten myself out.” He scowled a little to himself and stabbed into his food with more force than was necessary.

Alfred was quiet for a few minutes as Tim ate, and Tim was afraid that Alfred would refuse his reasoning and disapprove of Tim’s choice to leave. Because if there was anyone he would listen to without many questions at this point, it was most definitely Alfred. “That all seems rather reasonable,” the man concurred, and Tim’s shoulders slumped a little in relief, “however I must ask why this means you wish to move out.”

“I can’t watch Dick and Damian and Bruce,” he admitted easily, staring at his remaining food like it could give him answers to the universe. “I understand that the Robin mantle should be passed on after the Robin is ready to move out and go off on his own, but…I _wasn’t_ ready to move on. I _still_ can’t accept that I’m not Robin, so there’s no way my staying here will be beneficial to anything. I can't see them be the perfect family they've all always wanted and know I'm not needed anymore. I'm not too sure where I'll go from here, but I know I'll be staying in Gotham for the most part.”

“I see,” was all Alfred said for a moment, and Tim took that as a chance to finish his meal and fill the other cup Alfred had set down with tea for himself, taking his dish to the dishwasher to give the liquid a chance to cool. As he was rinsing out the dish Alfred spoke, and Tim froze attentively. “I believe you underestimate just how much you mean to this family, Master Tim, but I know I alone will not be able to convince you. Perhaps some time away will make the others realize just how valued your presence is. Know that you have done what none of us could do, you believed when we were all afraid to and you brought Master Bruce home, and I will never stop thanking you for bringing my first child home. You have my blessing to move out if you desired it.”

Tim let out a shaky sigh as the older man's blessing hit his ears, easing the knot of tension that had formed in his chest. “Thank you, Alfred.” He took a deep breath and swallowed to regain his composure. “I still need to find a good apartment and decide if I want to hang up my cape for the hiatus. Probably not, but I might take it easy on my rounds.” He wanted to focus more on cold cases, maybe reach out and help heroes outside of Gotham. The world was kind of open to him now.

He just needed to take it.

* * *

He got a new apartment and furnished it in two weeks, no one at the Manor paying him any mind and so not noticing when he leaves for hours on end in civilian clothes. Tim occasionally found himself humming the Mission Impossible theme regardless, with only Damian shooting him a look in response.

The apartment was on a slightly better end of Gotham, not all that close to the Manor. It could have almost been used as a halfway point between Jason's preferred hidey hole and the Cave in all honesty, though Tim kept that tactical advantage to himself and Alfred, because Alfred deserved to know where ten percent of his reasoning came from. He nodded approvingly and Tim remembered the pleased blush that came from that one action.

Tim was beginning to suspect that he was more attention-starved than he'd originally thought.

The place was coming together well, with a futon in the living room to serve as his couch and bed when he was too wrapped up in a case. Tim at this point knew himself well enough that it was simply easier to work around his sleeping and work habits.

He also knew it was his chance to splurge and so he felt no shame in buying a hammock rather than a bed to sleep in for his bedroom, the item receiving a despairing look from Alfred before the man humored him and helped Tim set it up. He filled the net with a ton of soft pillows and so far he's enjoyed it far more than he probably should.

During this time, Tim still had to go to work; Bruce had yet to return to the company which left Tim as acting CEO of Wayne Enterprises for the time being. The Board and Lucius didn't seem to know what to do with a CEO who was both interested in the company and seemed to know what he was doing, and Tim thought he caught about four different parties being held since he'd established himself as a decent CEO despite being put there as Bruce's emancipated son. It made meeting with Tam a little awkward – she spent about two hours shouting at him about her father and how he should've told her and _fucking Red Robin, seriously Tim?_ –but they got through it and returned to being one another's pseudo-conscience, though Tim suspects they had far too much fun playing up the dissolution of their engagement.

As Tim was working through some of the WE paperwork he came across a page that made him blink in befuddlement. “Drake Industries _wasn't_ driven into the ground by the Board of Directors?” He asked aloud, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

It wasn't, the piece of paper assured him, but it would be soon, and the company wanted a merger to try and stay floating. Tim snorted at their audacity, before writing a short missive for the legal division. A merger – unlikely to happen, even with Tim in charge. But outright acquiring the company – yes, he was open to such an idea. And he would put himself in charge of this new little addition to the company, not as the CEO but as Timothy Drake-Wayne.

The company had turned to software in times current, and Tim looked forward to having a pet project to lead while Bruce or fucking _Damian_ took over the rest of the company. When he emailed Lucius the missive with his logic the man had some...polite but colorful words on Damian stepping up (the kid was like 12 so that did admittedly give Tim at least a few years before he calmed the fuck down and became good CEO material) but didn't mind contacting Drake Industries about potentially being acquired by Wayne Enterprises. Tim tossed his stress ball (one of many gifts from PR but Tim wasn't willing to consider that and acknowledge it as the implied bribery to remain CEO that it was) from hand to hand as he contemplated his Neon Knights program before sending an email to various branches about its existence and requesting it be added to the company website.

Most of the responses he got back were positive and Tim smiled a little as he put down the ball and grabbed at the mug of coffee on his desk (which read “#1 Boss” and was also from PR. Tim knew that didn't mean much when the competition was Brucie Wayne, but it warmed him nonetheless). He took a sip and sighed in bliss; now _this_. This was _good_ bribery. He was taking another sip when a voice started in the corner of his office and nearly made him drown in his fantastic coffee. “Wow handsome, I don't think watching someone drink a hot beverage should be _this_ enthralling.”

“Fuck, Pru, _why_ ,” was all Tim could really get out at the moment as he fought for air. Betrayed by coffee; truly, was nothing sacred? The cruel, cruel woman did nothing but laugh as he finally got his breathing under control and glared at her with tears in his eyes and likely looking more pathetic than he had in months. “Is Ra's trying to kill me via hot liquids now? Does he not realize that that is _actually_ pretty sadistic? I mean, yeah, we're both trying to get the upper hand in this stupid game we're playing but...just... _rude_.”

“He didn't send me here to kill you, handsome,” the assassin grinned at his irritated look and sashayed closer to his desk, her eyes flicking from one item to another before settling on him again. “Ra's decided that, since I kind of went through hell and back with you while you were hunting down the big bad Bat, I might be emotionally compromised when it comes to you. He also decided that _he_ wants to be the one to lead you to your demise or what the fuck ever, so he sent me to be your kinda bodyguard.”

Tim stared at her, at the very sincere way she looked around, at the lack of weapons on her being outside of the standard array, and was unable to call bullshit. “That makes no sense at all,” was what he said instead, leaning back and taking another sip of his coffee. “He _does_ realize that he and I are still enemies, right?”

“Yes, but you're _his_ enemy.”

“...No.”

Pru huffed and crossed her arms, glaring at him. “You'll either accept this or I'm going to follow you everywhere _without_ your consent. Trust me, Tim, this is the best deal you can get out of Ra's. Don't make him take drastic measures.”

And Tim really wanted to call her on that but he _knows_ Ra's. And that man really didn't have a limit the way most normal people did, so Tim wasn't ashamed to admit that he didn't want to know what Ra's' idea of “drastic measures” was. “Fine,” he conceded mulishly, but he didn't give Pru time to be smug as a rather evil smile curled his lips up. 

(It would take at least two months and several drinks before the assassin would ever admit that look honestly terrified her and made the crazy part of her brain where all bad ideas resided mourn the fact that Tim was unlikely to aspire to supervillainy. That smile could make the world tremble.)

The young man turned and began typing on the computer, coffee gently placed back down. “However, no one in Wayne Enterprises really thinks I need a bodyguard, since no one knows about my moonlighting and I haven't had any assassinations attempted on Timothy Drake-Wayne yet, so we'll need a believable reason for you to be near me at all times. I'm thinking personal assistant.” While Pru began to sputter a rejection, Tim was already putting the final touches to the falsified application and its acceptance. “Congratulations and welcome to the team, Prudence Wood.”

Pru stared at the keycard he procured out of seemingly nowhere – it doesn't have her name on it yet, so she took comfort in the fact that he didn't fully see this coming – and looked back at him. “You're a horrible, vindictive man, Timothy Drake.”

“Yes. Yes I am.” Tim stretched out in his cushy CEO chair; suddenly the world seemed a tad more beautiful.


End file.
